Collared by Wolves [The Haunt of the Wolves 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (2 page)

He took advantage of her distraction to study her, noting that she was reasonably pretty, if red-faced at this moment, as the couple pulled apart, swearing volubly, and the girl became aware of their private parts in their full glory. He smiled wryly as she clearly attempted to halt her shock from showing, but not achieving it.

It was illegal for sex acts to be performed in public, but this club, commonly known as “The Haunt,” managed to stay secret from the human authorities, partly because of the mysterious Shroud. No one knew where it came from other than it had been spoken about for generations. But also, due to the remote location in a forest a long way from human habitation, not even near any werewolf homes, it had been possible to stay secret. He chuckled to himself. “Deer Park” was a misnomer as there weren’t any deer there, not where wolves lived.

This venue was necessary as it was the only place he knew of where werewolves like he could act out their darker BDSM needs, ones that were frowned on even within the wolf community. Of course, they could go to a human club offering this lifestyle in a town or city, but none of them could turn into their animal selves there.

Shaking his head, he chuckled at the image of human Doms peeing in their pants at the sight of a werewolf sub turning wolf as he whipped her. And, in any case, wolf BDSM sometimes differed from that practiced by humans, being more violent, more exposed. One big difference was that sex in public was not only allowed here, but expected. If someone wanted to be private, they went to their own homes.

He could never understand why the clubs he visited in the city had “private” rooms. If one was into the lifestyle, that indicated a certain degree of exhibitionism, surely. It was only laws, human ones, which forced people with his type of sexual inclination to consummate their acts behind closed doors. Thankfully he wasn’t human.

Narrowing his eyes, Griff studied the girl more closely now that her shock was dissipating. At first she looked like she was going to turn tail and run out of there. In fact, the few humans that had ventured over the threshold had done just that, and she was obviously human. Apart from the warning of the Shroud, he could smell her from here. Like wolves, he could smell another animal a mile away, and she had an almost alien scent. It was amazing to him that humans didn’t have stronger olfactory senses or they would have realized centuries ago that werewolves really existed. He may be part human, but Griff was very much aware that all werewolves had a unique scent like every other animal.

Looking at the girl, he deemed that she was average height and figure for a human. Lupine women were generally taller and leaner than their human counterparts. But what stood out was her glorious red hair, dark red, not the pale, wishy-washy blonde red that he personally disliked. It fell over her shoulders, gently curling at the ends.

His cock surged up in desire. “Down boy,” he growled softly. There was no way he was getting involved with a human. In fact, most wolves stayed clear of the human species. Apart from the threat of exposure, it was too much trouble as couplings of this nature generally split up, the human being unable to accept the animal side of a werewolf’s nature. Not that these sorts of relationships happened very often. The Shroud made sure of that.

The girl still hesitated in the doorway. He could tell from her expression that she was undecided about entering. Not surprisingly considering the hostile vibes that were being emitted from around the room in her direction. He was stunned when she steeled herself and came forward. Admittedly she walked slowly, but she did step into the lion’s den, or more appropriately, the wolves’. Griff mentally sent a nod of applause in her direction. It took guts to come into a venue like this, even more so if one was a different species. Not that she knew that.

He watched curiously as she glanced around. He wondered if she was looking for someone specifically but decided probably not when the first person she approached gave her the cold shoulder turning his back on her. Her shock was evident, and she vacillated, looking down at something she held. Griff shifted on his feet to see what it was and noted it seemed to be a piece of paper. Lifting her head, she tried another person. He didn’t reject her, just glared at her, and Griff saw her step back. Her expression was getting anxious.

Uh-oh.

Griff saw her looking in his direction. Breaking eye contact, he leaned his head back to tip some more of his vodka down his throat hoping to show his disinterest.

It didn’t work.
She walked up to him.

Hell!

“Um, excuse me, s–sir. Can you tell me where I am supposed to go?” Her voice was surprisingly deep—and husky. She sounded almost wolf-like. His cock throbbed in his tight jeans at the alluring sound, and he had to alter his stance to relieve some of the ache. He tried to concentrate on what she had said instead.

Go? What did she mean?

He must have been showing his confusion on his face because she thrust her piece of paper toward him. Frowning, he reluctantly took possession of it, scanning it quickly, wanting to get rid of her despite his arousal.

“Submissive Trials,” it said.

What on earth?

It wasn’t the suggestion that submissive trials would take place in this venue. In fact, they often did as wolves as much as humans had their Masters, Doms, subs, and switches, but how on earth had she got a copy of the notice?

He rested an elbow on the bar as he glanced at her face again. Her green eyes showed her earnestness. He smiled as a wicked thought came over him, and he couldn’t resist the temptation to set the cat among the pigeons. Talk about throwing the poor girl to the wolves. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

Raising his voice so he could be heard by everyone, he called out loudly in the direction of the bartender, a tall, closely cropped fair guy, built like a lumberjack who had been with the venue forever, it seemed. “Hey, Al.”

Griff’s deep voice reverberated around the room.

“Where are the Submissive Trials taking place tonight?”

He paused as he waited to get everyone’s attention and grinned as hush descended and all eyes glanced his way. Some were horrified, some indifferent, but most were intrigued to see where he was going with this. Oh, he did like to mix things up when he could. It was entirely too boring at the moment.

Al gave him a look of “mess with me and you’re toast.” Griff just tilted his head to the side and gave him a broad smile. It was the smile he used when he was thoroughly enjoying a joke at someone else’s expense.

“Why do you want to know? Weren’t you banned from the trainees’ room?” Al’s voice was low, obviously wanting to keep the conversation between themselves. Griff laughed to himself. No chance of that happening.

He raised his voice even louder and lifted his glass to indicate the human. “We’ve got a new girl wanting to join in.”

Ford Chaplin looked up from his table in the corner of The Haunt. His dark-brown eyes watched the scene intently.

Everyone in the room was looking in the direction of the bar and the man who had just spoken loudly.

He had been mildly amused by the girl’s entrance, and as he saw her tentatively approach Griff Seamer, he snorted, knowing she would get short shrift from that particular man.

The bartender gave Griff a sidelong look of “you’d better not be fucking with me” and went back to cleaning a glass without answering him. The question was generally ignored as people began to talk again and went back to what they had been doing previously.

As for Ford and his two buddies, all beta wolves, they were sitting watching the action in the club. Being betas meant they were not allowed first shot at any submissive, unless possibly she was beta or omega herself and the alphas were disinterested.

Within the wolf community, real ones as well as werewolves, there were the alpha wolves, male and female, who were the leaders of the pack or community. Stronger than the others, they also had superior senses such as being able to give mental commands to the lower ranks. At least werewolves did.

The alphas were often the offspring of the previous generation, strong genes being all important, but even then they had a tendency to assert their dominance if up against another alpha muscling in or a beta trying to get above their station.

Betas were the next tier down. Despite being more numerous than the alphas, they lacked the strength, cunning, and talents of the alphas and were subsequently relegated to secondary roles. But they did prove useful as the right-hand men to the alphas, as the enforcers policing the town.

Omegas, on the other hand, were the dregs.
No, that was harsh.
They were the runts of the litter in body and intelligence within a wolf pack, and the same couldn’t be denied within werewolf society.

So any wolf worth her hide would only flirt with the alphas. It was wolf nature. They were, after all, the strongest with the better genes. Unfortunately it also meant that people like him and his friends, Max and Callum, didn’t get any chance with the women here.

They could, of course, have dated the beta women in his town. Unlike wolf packs where only a single alpha pair usually mated and had offspring, werewolf groups tended to follow the human side of their nature and allowed other pairs to mate or marry. In fact, there were several who were considered alpha pairs who ran their towns. They only mated with other alphas and therefore had become rather elite, the politicians, the leaders of the Council, the managers.

The rest of the community were betas and omegas—those who bore the brunt of the aggression from the senior members. Children born of either mating often found their human genes dominated more than their lupine ones, and they generally drifted away from werewolf towns to join humans, denying their other selves and over generations forgetting they had any wolf blood in them.

However, none of the beta females in Ford’s birth pack were into BDSM, so the three of them had taken to grouping together in the hope that a submissive woman would think that three of them were more interesting than one alpha. It worked, occasionally, although rarely with an alpha bitch, more likely to be an omega. But at least they got to be with submissive girls this way.

It meant, though, that they had gradually broken away from their pack. But they were not regarded as rogues, just unwelcome since BDSM was regarded as unacceptable to wolf communities as it was to vanilla humans.

No, the only rogue in the club was the man who had just shouted out, trying to upset the apple cart.

Leaning against the wall, Ford tipped his seat to rest on the back legs of the chair as he studied the man in question, Griff Seamer.

Griff was older than Ford and his fellow betas, who were all in the second half of their twenties. Griff, meanwhile, was mid-thirties and had the arrogant look of a mature alpha in the prime of his life who knew that all the women in the club would have jumped at the chance of being with him if he but lifted an eyebrow in their direction.

Ford snorted. That particular alpha certainly lifted his eyebrows a lot.

He wasn’t a member of Ford’s pack but from another community on the far side of the district. Actually, he wasn’t a member of that group at all now as he had been banished, hence one of the reasons why he tended to frequent this area instead.

Ford narrowed his eyes as he tried to recall the incident and softly called across the table to one of his friends who, out of the three of them, was the most empathic.

“Max.”

He waited until his friend glanced over. Max’s eyes were a much lighter brown than his own, almost the amber color of their eyes in wolf form. Ford nodded toward the rogue alpha still standing at the bar with the human girl, leaning over her, showing his dominance by this act. “What exactly happened with
him
? How come he was expelled?”

The third of their group, Callum, who had been also watching the duo, quickly turned his head back. “Eh, what? Why are you asking about that one?”

Grinning at Callum’s gruff tone, Ford knew the youngest of his group didn’t like the man. Callum was physically strong and could have been an alpha if not for his beta genes—and his tendency to be impatient.

“Just curious as it occurred to me I didn’t really know—and that intrigues me.” Ford was the thinker of their group. He had got them out of many a confrontation by wiles alone, a skill learned at a young age because of his slight frame. He might be the handsomest of the three, but he lacked the physique that werewolf bitches wanted.

Max shrugged his shoulders. “Not entirely sure I know either. Something to do with forgetting he is human when in wolf form, I seem to recall.”

“Well, we all do that.” Callum for once was defending the man, and Ford chuckled at his friend’s face when he realized what he had said. “But there must have been more than that, surely?”

“Umm. I don’t think it was any one thing, but a series of incidents when people got hurt.” Max frowned as he imparted this little gem.

“You mean he’s killed?” Ford sat down with a bump, his beer slopping out of the top of the bottle over his trousers. He brushed at the moisture impatiently. He hadn’t been expecting that!

It was part of werewolf law that no killings of humans or weres took place while in wolf form. Actually, no killings could take place in human form, but at least in that equation they would be subject to normal human laws. If a killing took place while the wolf was in charge, they didn’t dare take it to the human authorities because they would have to explain who they were and how it had happened. Instead, the pack elders held a meeting, the outcome of which could be anything from banishment to the slaying of the wolf if the being was a danger to other members of the pack, or to humans.